Undone
by chokesob
Summary: continuation fic of my AU/OneShot Shackled
1. Chapter 1

Christian's phone rang.

He groaned as he rolled over and felt Lissa stir next to him. Her limbs were curled around his, a wonderful, tangled mess of skin and heat. He ran a hand down his face and stifled another more annoyed grumble as he looked at the clock. 2:37 a.m. He recognized the tune coming from his phone. The jingle pierced his hazy thoughts as a face is finally pulled to the front of his mind.

_Adrian. _Of course.

"Who is it?" Lissa looked over at the phone through sleepy eyes. She's laying across his chest.

"It's Adrian," Christian sighs. He picks up the phone. "Adrian, it's two thirty in the morning. If you need a ride home, you should remember I'm across the country-"

"It's not Adrian, Christian," a frantic voice says through the line, almost unfamiliar in it's lack of control.

"_Sydney?" _Christian exclaimed. He sat up immediately, Lissa following after his declaration.

"I... I wasn't sure who to call," she began, her voice crackling and hoarse. Where was she?

"It's no problem," Christian assured her. "Is everything okay out there? You're calling awfully late..."

Lissa's eyes are trained on him. Christian can feel her worry seep into the air and skimmed a hand through her hair, cupping her face. She leaned into his hand, worry and unease still lighting her eyes.

"Christian, is... I need to..." Sydney sounds choked, the words coming out wrong somehow. He tensed and waited for her to catch her breath. Christian dropped his hand, slicing his eyes to Lissa who now sits up.

Neither of them are remotely tired anymore.

"Sydney, what's happened?" Christian asked, his tone firm, but worried. "You sound awful."

"I need- talk- Vasilisa," Sydney kept cutting in and out of their phone conversation.

"Syd- Sydney? Can you hear me? Are you alright?" Christian spoke anxiously into the phone. "Where are you?"

"Christian- you need to send someone for me," Sydney's voice was breathless but strong this time. She sounded like she was running.

"Something's happened- I- I can't; something terrible..." her voice broke on another sob.

Christian began to feel sweat break under his arms and throughout his body while ice encased his stomach. He knew there was only one reason Sydney would be in such hysterics.

Christian cleared his mind of the fear and dread that was trying to tear his orderly thoughts apart.

"Sydney, _what has happened?"_

Christian heard her stop running, heard her stop breathing, and for a second her grief, so real, so palpable, came through the phone line and kicked him straight in the stomach.

"Syd-"

"Adrian. He's a Strigoi; he's gone. I lost him." Her voice is barely a whisper through the line but her words are like a cannon in his head, impossibly loud and horribly destructive.

"What did you say?"

"Adrian's a Strigoi now."

And then Sydney started running again.

I remember when I was younger my mother secretly took me to a local art exhibit. My father was out of town for the day with the Alchemists when she came into my room, with large eyes and a bright smile full of teeth. She put a finger to her lips as a gesture for my silence; I mimicked her, telling her I understood.

I remember giggles. I remember happiness. I remember my hand held tightly in hers, the sweat that slicked my palms. The reverberation of our footsteps off of the marble tile and stone walls that brought us to one painting in particular.

The main color of the painting was gray. The different shades ranged from pale to dark, each swimming in and out of the other. The gray was comforting the way the Alchemists had taught me to recognize and adapt to. The way I had been born into. It was uniform, solitary, constant; safe. There were harsh strokes and there were soft pats. I recognized a sad quality as it soaked itself throughout the canvas.

The colors, however, were what frightened me the most.

In the midst of the gray the artist had painted a mess of bright colors, tangling in and out of each other like a web of yarn. There were flashes of purple and green and red and orange as if someone had spit them onto the center of the canvas. The color black bled down the center, through the middle, up the sides, like loud and confused tears.

I felt the flicker of fear in my chest, squeezing and pinching my breath in my throat. The painting was dark despite it's brilliance. It gave me the impression of infinite loneliness, all of that brightness caught in a storm cloud of furious ache. The storm of emotion was shown loud and clear in the midst of the gray calm. The color rebelled against the gray, splashing everywhere and showing off like a peacock on display.

The painting was named _Frailty in Balance._

Three Months Later

I haven't slept for more than 3 hours a night.

I haven't eaten a full meal.

I refuse to stop looking.

Since we were taken by the Strigoi, I refuse to stop looking for answers.

I was released by the Strigoi, as promised. With their gleeful smiles laced with cyanide and evil I wanted to throw up as they shoved me out of my cage. Adrian only gave me one warning before they separated us. Possibly forever. "Remember our promise. Run." His eyes full of scorching misery and determination, my throat sticky with words I never would choke out. He was the strong one; I was weak. I remember the Strigoi circling him as I was lead out. I remember my heart cracking through my body, tearing everything, shredding, ripping, my mouth clenched into a silent half scream-sob.

Being thrown into the dirt outside with nothing but my tears and a numbing ache.

I hit the ground running that night as fast and as hard as I could go. My fear and adrenaline carrying me as far away from the screams I could get.

But were they his or mine?

I don't remember anymore.

I was sweat soaked and tear stained when Eddie found me- I fought off anyone who came near me. That night there wasn't a difference between a Moroi and my nightmares.

They weren't Adrian.

They were demons of my own past come to haunt me. They were Strigoi. There was no difference that night.

I refuse to speak to anyone about the night they found me. Or about Adrian. I can feel them looking at me with burning eyes, question mark eyes, but I refuse to give in. They know the official report about what happened in the cave, in my cage, but none of them understand. It's a black scorch on my soul, a rip through a painting, a searing reminder I live with everyday.

I refuse to give up on.

I've woken up screaming a lot since that night. The dreams come swiftly and effortlessly whenever I close my eyes. They swarm my brain, consume my body, paralyzing me with it's mind numbing terror until I sit up gasping and choking on my own screams. I wake up to hear Adrian whispering my name, the voice growing fainter as I awaken. I cried at first; now I walk to the kitchen and make coffee with shaking hands, hoping to avoid sleep altogether.

I've been floating by on half truths and lies for the last three months. I can't remember the last time I looked up at the sky or tasted food. My clothes, once a perfect fit, hang slightly off of my bones. I would have been happy with this change but now I can't seem to drum up the enthusiasm. I don't have the inclination. The girl looking back in the mirror is a Sydney I don't remember. I stare at my reflection and wonder who the pale, skinny girl with the pinched mouth is.

I have decided to avoid mirrors.

The Alchemists are working to find Adrian under Vasilisa's express request. They would have given up weeks ago if it weren't for his blood ties to the crown and Vasilisa's position as queen. Most are angry to be playing politics with the vampires. If the Alchemists don't look for Adrian Ivashkov, it would look suspicious. Adrian's name is well known in the Moroi world and our world.

His last name in itself can't be swept under the rug and labeled another Strigoi tragedy.

I keep this in mind and try to breath with lungs that refuse air.

My mind is spinning with shades of gray and bursts of pain and color that penetrate the fog, the only thing reminding me I'm still human.

And still very much alive.

_Sydney, remember, this is our secret_

_No one can know_

_Come-_

"Sydney, _wake up! _You're going to be late for class."

I groggily open my eyes to green and brown. I feel my heart falter and shake before I realize it is Jill trying to wake me.

"Jill," I whisper. My throat feels raw. "What time is it?"

Jill's eyes tighten for a second, then widen again. "7:45. You're going to be late, Sydney."

I nod because that's what she wants me to do. I get up because that's what I need to do. I pick out clothes without seeing what my hands are touching. Hand to soft fabric. Repeat.

We're walking through the dormitory hallway to the exit. Jill has been silent the entire time I changed and gathered my things. "You should eat more, Sydney. He... He wouldn't want this."

I feel my spine stiffen. Suddenly the hallway shrinks into nothing and I'm clenching my hands, my nails biting into my palms. I feel my heart trying to beat but it's a futile attempt. I stopped feeling anything a long time ago.

I keep going as if Jill hasn't spoken and isn't trying to reach out to me. Her voice is a vague noise in the background compared to the hissing in my mind. I don't react to her. I can't react to her.

I walk out of the dormitory without her.

I'm sitting in my History class and I barely remember my quarrel with Jill. My thoughts criss cross and bury themselves under mountains of shadows and dust. I attempt to be normal for Jill and Eddie. Sometimes I even stretch my lips into a crippled version of a smile.

I don't think I'm fooling anyone.

Eddie keeps reminding me that they have the best Moroi and Alchemists looking for Adrian. Vasilisa is making sure of it. Even Adrian's father, Nathan Ivashkov, is taking part of the search. Apparently both Moroi and Alchemist search parties haven't been able to keep him out of their hair for very long. He started off by giving the vampires and Alchemists money for supplies but now Nathan has apparently been traveling around with different groups, trying to ascertain his son's whereabouts.

"He's been bossing them around like crazy," Eddie told me one day over lunch. "He keeps telling them what they're doing wrong or why they aren't searching here or there."

Eddie shook his head in amazement. Nathan Ivashkov was not known for fatherly affections and this is a shocking revelation for us all.

I float from one class to the other. I want to call the Alchemists for an update, but what can I say?

I need to know if you found him yet. I need his voice other than in my dreams. I'm haunted by a ghost, I'm chasing a dream, I'm running after an illusion. I need to know information, scraps, words, numbers, names, pieces.

It's been three months. And he is still gone from my life.

My body has pieces missing since he left. The past three months I've noticed my taste buds have stopped working, my arms have a chunk missing, my side is gaping, my ribs are a few less. I look down at my hands sometimes to make sure my fingers are still attached, legs still work, my voice, ears, still functional.

Adrian didn't just take himself, he took pieces of me with him. He didn't just take my heart, he took segments of me. And I kept nothing of him. Nothing except dreams and voices. Whispers at night that haunt and send me screaming into the darkness.

I know he is out there with my extra pieces, waiting for me to collect. To put me back together.

My heart is at a stalemate.


	2. Chapter 2

_"How fragile is the heart_

_Give these clay feet wings to fly_

_To touch the face of the stars_

_Breathe live into this feeble heart_

_Lift this mortal veil of fear"_

_-_Dante's Prayer, Loreena McKennitt

Six Months Later

_What people don't tell you about grief is that time ceases to exist. It slips away, causing your days to lose chunks. You lose segments of your life to a cloud of confusion. You try to reach out with your fingers, hoping to grab onto a sturdy surface, while it consistently evades you. _

_I misplace time everyday. My life is a puzzle I've thrown into the air and hidden in corners and nooks. I can't possibly hope to find all of the pieces nor do I want to. If I tried, my body would crumble with the weight. I am too fragile to try to carry my burden. So I hide it away. I stow it safely away into shadows and under rugs until the time of my reckoning comes. _

I'm sitting in Chemistry letting my partner get our solution wrong. I don't care to correct him. He sends me annoyed glances as I do nothing but remember to forget.

The teacher instructed us to follow the directions on our handout, and if everything went well, we would create a crystalline substance.

My teachers tried to engage me in the lessons at first, but they soon learned it was a wasted effort. I rarely raise my hand, speak up, or answer questions anymore. I shy away from their glances and sit as far back in the room as I can. I don't care to try to learn.

They tried their hardest to bring me out of the casing I created for myself. I know everyone is worried about me; I can feel it pressing on me like a second atmosphere whenever I walk into the room. Their thoughts are there, in the crease of their foreheads, the tightening of their mouths, the tense expressions. No one knows the exact reason why I have become such a tired and lonely girl. Just that I'm desperately trying to avoid the day until night comes, and then a new type of hopelessness sets in.

A high school education won't bring me any closer to finding Adrian.

I am staring out the window, watching the trees blow outside. I vacantly wonder if I'll feel the wind slap across my cheeks when I walk outside. I look down at my hands and let my teacher's voice settle over me.

The bell rings.

I lost twenty minutes.

I don't pay attention to the girls and boys I pass in the hallways. I used to smile and say words like "pardon me" but now I don't have the impulse. I walk with my head down, steps fast, one two, one two, into the cafeteria.

I am sitting.

Wasn't I just in the hallway?

I notice I have food in front of me. I start to pick at it without much interest. When you don't have a natural appetite, along with losing your taste, eating takes a very low priority. Eddie mothers over me during this time, telling me a funny anecdote about his day. I don't notice his eyes have rings or the way his voice is more strained or his laugh is too forced.

I can't notice any of these things. They are tucked neatly away behind a locked door.

"...he spilled it all over the tests, I kid you not," Eddie is saying. "Our teacher spilled coffee over all of our tests this morning. How does that happen in real life?"

Jill groans. "Why do you have all the luck?"

Eddie shrugs and grins. "I think it has more to do with his clumsiness than luck, right, Sydney?"

I nod slowly, not really sure what they've been talking about. I'm surprised they still try to include me in their conversations. I don't contribute at all unless they talk about the Alchemists or the search.

My eyes dart around the crowded lunch room until they land on Trey Juarez. I feel my stomach shift as my gaze darts away.

Thursday. I almost forgot today was Thursday.

"Sydney?"

I look towards Jill, my eyes wide with a dull excitement. Her face shows surprise that she quickly smothers.

"The bell rang already. We need to get to class..." Jill grimaced a little, possibly recalling this morning.

I realize the cafeteria has trickled out students leaving it almost completely empty except for a few stragglers. Eddie is waiting by the doors, pretending not to notice our conversation.

I look across the room, already forgetting her. "Go ahead of me."

"Sydney..." Jill's voice was a whisper of a warning.

I narrow my eyes at her. "I'll make it. Go, Jill."

She picks up her bag slowly then continues towards Eddie. I notice him glance over at me as she says a few words, but I turn away. My priority at the moment is Trey.

As soon as Eddie and Jill walk around the corner, I pick up my own backpack and leave the table. My feet carry me across the cafeteria to a doorway opposite the long space. I feel the first bit of consciousness sweep of over me as I push open to the warm air outside. There are a few kids running to class, besides myself.

I feel guilty for lying to Jill about going to class but right now I don't have the luxury to stew in it. I make my way over to the girls dormitory and try to think up an excuse as to why I need to skip classes for the rest of the day. I haven't been involved in Mrs. Terwilliger's independent studies recently so I know depending on her to get me off campus is out. I decide using illness is the best route. I haven't used an excuse or tried to leave campus the last few months. There was no point.

I walk through the dormitory entrance, looking for the daytime receptionist. She is sitting behind a desk, reading a magazine. I try to smile and remember her name but nothing comes; it is all blank spaces and empty memories filled with torn conversations.

I push everything aside as I walk up and clear my throat. "Hello-"

"Sydney! Shouldn't you be in class?"

"I-yes," I nod. My voice sounds croaky, unused. "I'm not feeling too well. I'm going to lay down in my dorm."

I can tell by her face that she's unsurprised by my statement. I can also tell that she believes what I'm saying. I don't blame her. I haven't done anything the past six months besides walk these halls like a ghost, slowly moving from one subject to the other, barely saying a word. I stopped showing up to Ms. Terrwilliger's independent study when she tried to teach me more complicated defensive spells after I came back. That was the last time I showed anything to anyone. I pushed all of my power, all of my magic, all of the twisted vines that pricked and bled into the back of my mind behind a door that I would never open.

The receptionist is talking while I'm staring at the hallway door, leading to the rest of the rooms. "...to see the nurse?"

I shake my head absently. "No, I have nausea. I need to lie down."

My own voice sounds hollow to me but I don't care. I'm trying to hurry along our conversation. I've avoided talking to adults. Their expressions have held the most pity, the most sadness. I can feel them whispering words of understanding and sorrow, melting together until it blends into a mass stained with worthless expressions.

"I'm sorry, dear, did you catch a bug-?"

"No," I say. "It's probably from lack of sleep. Is it alright if I go upstairs?"

"Of course, Sydney." She looks like she's about to reach across her desk and pat my hand. I pull mine back. "Take your time."

"Thanks," I reply, already walking away. My footsteps echo in my mind which is already forgetting her face. I am climbing the stairs, concentrating on the doors and which room is the exit to my freedom.

I stop in front of Kristen and Lauren's room, barely breathing. The hallway is empty but I wait five, four, three, two seconds before pushing open their bedroom door.

I snuck out a few months ago through their dorm window in order to help Ms. Terwilliger capture a rogue witch. I remember being scared and calm because I knew Adrian would be with me. I'm different this time, dull and without care, climbing down the tree to a long drop. My heart is beating from the exertion but I know it will return to it's deadened state soon. I only feel a slight thud where my feet land. I slide my hands along the side of the building, my back pressing up against the rough stone. I walk quickly towards the parking lot and my waiting car. I feel a sense of relief as I approach the vehicle. I press my key fob, unlocking the brown Subaru and climb in.

I head south on the freeway for a few miles before taking the appointed turn-off. I glance behind me a few times to be sure I am not followed. The desert heat leaks through the cracks in the car making me sweat; I can feel a nervous energy come over me as I approach a rest stop on my left. I turn on my blinker and pull into it.

Trey's car is the only occupant in the parking lot.

I park next to him then take a deep breath. I've tried to make sure over the last few weeks to not get my hopes up every time I meet him out here in the desert. Every time I have failed. The information Trey is accessible to is irreplaceable. I know I would not have lasted these six months without him.

I notice Trey is standing by the front of his car, deep in thought. I push my car door open and walk to where he is.

"Trey."

He sighs. "Sydney."

"Have they-?"

"Captured him? No."

I blink and look away. I knew that was going to be his answer. That was Trey's answer every time we met. I'd convinced Trey to help me utilize whatever little resources he had left in the Warriors of Light to track Strigoi information. He was reluctant at first, but after my persistence, he made some inquiries, and we started meeting every week on Thursdays. I don't ask who is giving Trey the information about the Strigoi or how they are getting it. I don't care or want to know.

So far there was nothing, nothing, and more nothing. My resolve hasn't wavered since I first asked. If anything, it's made me more determined, more resolved on my goal. I know Adrian is out there; the only question is where. And how I will get myself to where he is. I repeat this mantra to myself everyday, a reminder of the life that is now mine. I don't rely on books and education to keep me distracted. I rely on my personal demon walking on this Earth somewhere without me.

Trey shakes his head, looks down, then rubs his hands down his face. "There's loads going down, Sydney. A lot has changed since we last talked."

I narrow my eyes, confused. "What do you mean-?"

"I.." he began, then stops. "There's something odd going on with the pack they've been tracking."

"The Strigoi in Louisiana?"

Trey nods. "Well, you remember how I told you the Alchemists were tracking the same one?" Trey asks me. "The same Strigoi clan?"

"Yes," I say, nodding slowly.

"About a month ago they tightened security around the Strigoi like they found something- or _someone- _I should say. That's what attracted the Warriors in the first place, remember?"

I do remember. Trey had called an impromptu meeting, telling me excitedly that they may have finally had a break through on Adrian's whereabouts. And it was in Louisiana, of all places. I had been astonished to hear he may have been so close. But the waiting had turned into nothing, again, again. All of the clan members would leave at night but Adrian never showed any sign of being involved with this particular group of Strigoi. There weren't any pictures, videos, phone calls. Nothing.

My time turned into sand slipping through my fingers, each second faster than the one before. I learned how to count my minutes again.

"Apparently the Alchemists and Moroi called off the team in charge of watching that group yesterday."

My head snaps up at this. "What?"

Trey nods. "Yeah, I know. Weird, right?"

"Why would they do that?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe because they haven't exactly found concrete evidence that your brother is there," he replies wearily. "Or maybe because his father told them to."

_"What?"_

I knew there was no love lost between Adrian and his father, but the way he was acting recently had me thinking he was a changed man. Apparently not. It still shocked me that he is giving up on an opportunity to find his missing son. Adrian has been lost for six months. Except for the tiny string in Louisiana, the Alchemists and Morois both haven't been able to find or hear anything of the newly-turned Royal.

"Word on the street is the elder Ivashkov is pulling them back out of Louisiana. He's insisting it's a waste of time to keep looking in that block," Trey says. "Some are disagreeing, but for the most part, they're pulling out." Trey shrugs. "He is their benefactor, after all."

I feel my body slice itself open as I try to process the information. How could they stop trying to find him? How?

"I know he's there in Louisiana, Trey." I say suddenly, almost harshly. "They're wrong to move themselves out."

I hug my elbows, curling myself over my chest. My eyesight becomes clearer as the emotions become stronger. I can feel something growing under my ribs, my spine becoming too straight, too pinched, my body is too bruised. I take deep breathes and push it all back.

I lock the door once again.

"You said the Alchemists haven't exactly found concrete evidence, what did you mean?"

Trey looks at me oddly. "Eddie didn't tell you?"

I feel my head go light. "Tell me what?"

Trey rubs his neck, giving me a look I've learned to avoid. "Sydney, I don't think..."

"Tell me _what_, Trey?"

He stares at me for a few seconds before moving to his car. I watch as he pulls a manila envelope out of the backseat then walks back to me. I wonder if he will show me what is in the folder.

"I don't know if I should show you these," he begins. "I debated it but you should know this doesn't give us anything conclusive."

As Trey is talking I feel my body become too still, too focused on the folder in his hands. Does Trey have new evidence on Adrian? Is that what the folder contains? I try to keep my features schooled but my mouth is dry and my palms are two pools of sweat. My stomach drops and sways as I realize faintly Trey is still trying tying to warn me of the folder's contents. I am vainly trying to keep my own hope and expectations at bay, but I am failing miserably.

I'm terrified. I have to know; I need to know the contents of that folder.

Trey is repeating words like "unfocused" and "grainy" but I'm no longer listening. I just want the photos contained between the pale beige pages.

"Stop stalling and let me see the folder, Trey," I listen to the wind whisper across the empty lot. I count three four five seconds before he reaches across the space between us and gives up the one thing in this world that could possibly destroy me.

I open the folder and freeze. I stare at a black and white picture taken outside of a hotel in Louisiana. The hotel itself is a tall brick structure with numerous white framed windows casing the front. There are people walking in and out of each other, passing themselves by on the street, but that's not what I'm staring at. What I'm focusing on.

There's a boy in front of the hotel, roughly early twenties, facing towards the camera. He is standing under the overhang in front of the revolving door. His face is turned away as if someone had called his name at the right moment the picture was taken. The boy has dark hair, a lean, long build; just like a Moroi. He's dressed in expensive, casual clothes; a v-neck, dark jeans, and expensive leather boots. I remember to swallow and breathe and blink before I look up towards Trey.

He's looking at me with an expression I can only comprehend as understanding. I'm folding in half as my fingers stroke the picture, once, twice, three, times. My eyes refuse the sight in front of me, my blood is tingling. Every nerve is raw and frayed in an instant.

Because the boy is also holding a pack of cigarettes in his hands.


	3. Chapter 3

HEY! Sorry it took me so long to get this out wah wah wah But here ya go and it's long yayz go Kirsten you're awesome : ) Anyways I hope you guys like it let me know what you think

BTW my tumblr is now michaelozera if you want to bug me okay bye~~

* * *

I didn't know you could be pounded into dust by a single photo; a simple, stupid moment caught in time on a piece of paper. But here it is, in my hand, haunting me, claiming me. The black and white photo is grainy but I can still make out the outlines and curves of the boy I'm troubled by. The cigarettes are like a foghorn screaming into mind wailing over and over. I feel my veins unclog of the cobwebs they've collected, my blood rushing fresh and fierce and hot. I think I hear Trey speak; I try to nod but it's more of a twitch. Nothing makes sense besides the picture of the hotel and this grainy picture of a boy on hotel steps.

I feel Trey watching me, watching my reaction, knowing he's waiting for a crash. I suppose it's understandable that he thinks I will just fall to my knees, pleading for this to be Adrian, crying tears of relief.

"Sydney?" Trey asks, carefully. His brown eyes are closely guarded. "Are you okay?"

"Is this the photo the Alchemists have?" I swallow. "Th-that Eddie has?"

He can tell it's a hard question for me to ask. I'm still reeling from the information Trey has given me. I don't understand why Eddie kept this information from me. The picture is enough to prove our suspicions that Adrian may be alive out there. It's enough to keep searching. How can the Alchemists stop looking when we're so close to finding him?

Why would his father?

Trey shifts his feet. "I'm not sure how in the loop your boy Castile is, Melbourne. But if my connections were able to get ahold of this picture, I'm positive he's seen this too."

"Do you have any other information about why the Alchemists left Louisiana?"

He shakes his head. "None. My contacts were ecstatic your Alchemists hightailed it out of there, to tell you the truth. They weren't about to go around asking questions."

I take a deep breathing, forcing my lips to keep moving with words I can't comprehend. "What about his father?"

Trey is silent. I wait and stare and mark time. "His father has told the Alchemists and Moroi both that it's a pointless process. He's finished looking for Adrian Ivashkov."

I'm floored, but I nod anyway. I don't really see a reason to stick around any longer. I'm itching to be alone and think about the information he has given me. I convince Trey to let me keep the photo; he makes me promise to not tell Eddie, as per usual. I wave to him as I climb into my car and turn around back towards the freeway.

I return to Amberwood in time for dinner but I don't return to the cafeteria to meet Jill and Eddie. I feel an anger bubble inside of me as I'm reminded of Eddie and his betrayal. I've been scratching my heartbeats away into a wall, spending my days locked into a cage I've carved for myself to be able to cope with the thought that I wasn't allowed to help search for Adrian. That the Moroi and Alchemists weren't making the progress I had hoped in six months.

Now here I am, clutching the very evidence that erased out every comfort he had ever spoken to me.

I pick through my Chemistry and Algebra homework, trying to make sense of equations and formulas. I just see numbers and a blank page. I don't see sense; I see blurs on a page. I finally give up with a sigh after what seems like hours. My head is pounding with a headache as I stand up and gather my toiletries to take a shower. I feel gritty and flat from the day. I can feel tears threaten my eyes once again as I think about the secrets Eddie had been keeping, and clench my teeth. I'd released the weight of the many traditions my father had drilled into me but one of them still stuck; I will not cry without necessity.

I am walking into the bathroom when I hear a soft knocking on my bedroom door. I wait for a beat, hesitating, hoping the individual will give up and walk away. I'm not that lucky because before too long I hear a voice call through the cracks, straining and stretching into my consciousness as I try with my might to push it away. My stomach is in knots as I recognize the voice.

Eddie.

"Sydney, it's Eddie. Can we talk? I didn't see you at dinner and I got worried," he pauses. Probably waiting to see if I will answer. "Please, Sydney. You really don't want to know what I had to do to gain entrance to your hall."

I sigh as I set my toiletries and hopes for a shower aside. They will have to wait until Eddie is gone; which was hopefully soon. I twist the doorknob, sweeping my arm to the side and inviting him inside. I leave the door open, insinuating to Eddie he isn't welcome for long.

"What happened to you today?" Eddie asks immediately. He's not in the mood for chit-chat, apparently. "I heard you came back to your dorm because you felt ill, but when Jill checked on you, you were no where to be found."

I'd counted on the fact that Jill and Eddie would check on me and came up with a valid excuse while I drove home. "I needed to leave campus for a few hours. To get away from Amberwood."

Eddie's eyes squint for half a second then clear up. He looks suspicious. I wouldn't have caught it if I wasn't suspicious of him myself. "Why?"

I sit back on my bed, feigning relaxation. My body is anchored by his every word and action, catching every movement and glance. "I needed to clear my head for a few hours. I went up into the hills and walked around and let my thoughts reorganize themselves. It was all very relaxing."

"And that's it? That's all you did?"

I nod. "Yes, that's it, Eddie. Well, I grabbed a salad at the store before coming home, but I don't see that as a huge danger to society."

Eddie nods his head, looking slightly sheepish. I try to feel bad but I can't find any emotion in me besides a vague fatigue and annoyance. It felt refreshing to feel something besides a constant film over my feelings, cutting them off and keeping me immune and separate from the world around me. I am starting to notice things now, things I have obviously missed the last six months.

I feel my eyes gradually being pulled open unwillingly, my soul being stretched out from under a blanket of security that I've hidden under these past six months. I don't want to feel any of it. I am being forced to feel all of it.

I am slowly waking up.

I am terrified.

Eddie is still standing in my room, waiting for me to say something while I sit and stare at the threads in my blanket. I'm fairly certain he's asked me a question, but I'm hoping he's only said goodbye, or that he'll take my silence as a gesture that his presence has overstayed it's welcome. Finally, he sighs, and mumbles something about how Jill is worried about me, that I should talk to her. I assure him I will, the lie spilling out easily. He seems satisfied as he leaves but I also know he's as good a liar as I am now.

I perch on my bed for a few seconds before moving into the bathroom and into the shower. I let the hot water soak through my skin and bones, melting away my tension from the day and the recent conversation with Eddie. I try not to replay his wary glances, or facial ticks, or the way he says his words, over and over in my mind, but I can't help it. I am obsessed with the lies and untold truths that he's kept from me. Why, why, why runs through my mind until I angrily have to shut off the water. The bathroom, and some of my bedroom, is blanketed with a thin layer of steam by the time I step out to dry off.

My body is exhausted as I reach for the picture I hid in my purse pocket. I unfold it and again my vision splinters. I run a finger over the stranger who isn't really a stranger with his head turned away, grasping a carton of cigarettes. My hair is dripping water down my neck, and under my shirt, but all I feel is the thin paper in my hands. I step backwards until my knees hit my bed and I tumble backwards onto it, still clutching my photo with the mysterious boy. I can't bear to let go, I can't stand to look away. It's my first connection with Adrian since...

I shift my eyes around to gaze at the faces passing him by carelessly, not knowing what a miracle it is to be standing, walking next to him.

My eyes grow heavy as I'm scanning the street filled of buildings and masks and trouble. The city is full of life; I can't help but think that it's exactly the type of place that Adrian would end up.

* * *

The smell hits me first: I'm back in the cave. Dirty, tattered, scared; alive. My arms are shaking from trying to hold myself up, but I'm soon distracted with an even more horrible realization.

Someone's screaming.

Not someone. A little girl.

Her high pitched shrieks bounce off the walls and into my system like a shot. I try to stand but my chains are too short. I hastily check the links for weakness again, praying, hoping, that this one time there will be a break in their armor. I slide my fingers along the smooth metal until I come upon one that has an imperfection and almost faint. My underarms and forehead are dripping sweat; the salty liquid is running into my eyes but I ignore the sting. I have to. The anguished cries are all that matter to me; are all that I hear. As I pull on the chain around my right wrist, the weak link, her wails spin higher and higher forcing me to pull harder and faster. I'm biting my lip to keep from sobbing as I try to ignore the thoughts that ravage me from the inside; _what could possibly be happening to her?_

I feel the metal break.

I am free.

I pull the long metal chain loose from the steel ring lodged in the wall. Gathering the chain into my hands I lurch unsteadily towards my cage doors. I grasp the bars carefully, looking back and forth, listening for any oncoming footsteps. Besides the terrible screams, everything is silent. I push open the door with trembling fingers, the chains clinking slightly, creeping slowly into the dark hallway. I notice keys on a hook across from me and pad towards them. The shrieks send my mind into overdrive as my usual steady fingers now clumsily try to force the key into the hole of my handcuffs. Once released, I breathe out, dropping the lengthy shackles as slowly as I dare and turn to finally face whatever horrors await me in the darkness. I press my hand against the stone, feeling the cold seep through my palm. I stop, suddenly taken by an overwhelming sensation.

Where are all of the guards?

_Why wasn't anyone watching me?_

I step forward then draw short again as the screams come to an abrupt halt. The cave is suddenly heavy with silence, my heartbeat pounding loudly in my chest. I slip further down the pitch-black passage, hoping to find the source of the girls screams. I'm only met with rocks and stumbling; I have to cover my mouth after a short while to muffle my sounds.

I see light shine and waiver at the darkest part of the cave ending. I freeze as they beam the light beside me, barely grazing the space parallel to my arm. I feel fear lick my mind; my adrenaline is kicking in and clutching every sensible nerve I have. I hear men's and a woman's voice say something before feet start crunching in my direction. I know they'll see me straight away if I stay where I am-but I can't run away from the little girl. I can't leave without answers.

My mind is whirring with possible ambushes-hitting one over the head with a rock?-before my mouth is covered by a mysterious hand. Another snakes around my chest, around both of my arms, securing me to it's body. I struggle for half a second before the arm squeezes painfully. I seize my actions, my arms and ribs throbbing painfully. My brain is struck dumb by my failure to rescue another individual from this terrible cave.

The mysterious captor drags me into a side passage where the light won't touch us. I notice they aren't breathing hard like a normal human would be.

_Moroi _I hope.

_Strigoi _I choke.

"I see you received the picture," the voice is cold, amused. "But I wasn't expecting you so soon. You need to go back home."

I bite the hand covering my mouth hard enough that it releases my face. Again, the voice makes a sound of delight; as if they were willing to let me go. My back is still pressed against their front so that their face is unaccessible to view. The body I'm tucked against is strong, lean, unmovable. I don't doubt it could tear me apart in seconds.

"Who are you?" I snarl. "Let me go."

"Not on your life," my faceless enemy sounds almost gleeful. I feel my senses tingling the more I hear the voice. "You need to wake up, darling."

"What are you talking about?" I struggle under the arm's hold. It's enough to keep me against my captor's body without a second thought. "I'm not asleep."

"Oh but you are...," a hand lifts my hair off of my right shoulder, whispering into my ear, "my dear, Sydney."

I stop struggling immediately. Instantly I know; my core starts to shake with the unbearable weight of it. My fingers fall loosely to my sides as I breathe deep, one, two, the air rattling in through my rib cage. I realize now why his voice is so horribly familiar yet so terrifyingly distant; his breath is a cold reminder of the beast he's become. His body no longer radiates the warmth and intimate feelings I once felt while cradled in his arms.

No, this boy is something else entirely. He is a creature of destruction, made of grinding mechanics only working towards one goal: ruination. This boy doesn't remember what he used to laugh over or stare at in the sunshine. Painting for him would turn into a racket of black and deep red, a city falling apart at his feet, a bird with a broken wing being eaten by a fellow predator.

He is my predator; I am his prey.

Somehow, I sought him out in my sleep.

And I got through.

_Adrian._

I cry out as his name rips through my head, singing in my ears, and unlocking the door inside my mind. My body is tumbling down a jagged cliff, ripping my limbs with bursts of pain and feeling. I feel myself crashing until something changes, halting my free fall. There's a slight shift in the atmosphere that I'm all too aware of.

"What-what is that?"

I hear it now.

Ravens.

"You're waking up," he breathes icicles against my ear. "Your time is up."

I see ravens sweep through my line sight, their loud cacophony of noise and sound, drowning out my vision. I'm pushed forward without notice and I stumble into the large circle of shifting darkness in front of me. I try to lift my arms to block the loud birds before I realize I'm not being attacked but submerged into a trance. I recall the feeling I'd get constantly when Adrian would let me drift off to sleep after the spirit dreams; but this is something else, something darker. The ravens are flying and twisting in a huge tunnel around me as I feel the air being sucked from the atmosphere. Before, in our shared dreams, a fog would come over me, welcome, comforting, warm. Now he has his ravens. Dark, otherwordly, destructive; evil. I cry out as I feel this part of my self conscious being ripped back from the cave to the body that is asleep in Palm Springs. The ravens grow in a tighter circle around me as I grope for a solid item to hold onto but I know there is no hope. My eyes close as I hear Adrian's stark voice through the raven's shrieking, "Sweet dreams, _piccolo Alchemista_."

* * *

I'm eating breakfast across from Eddie and Jill, feigning normalcy. The cafeteria is a loud and confusing mess of conversation around us. The students are pouring in to grab a quick meal before classes begin their regular schedules. I push my food around my plate numbly, creating a mess without taking any bites of the unappetizing meal in front of me.

"Sydney?"

I barely lift my head, meeting Jill's stare for a brief moment, then shift away.

"You need to eat, Sydney." This is from Eddie. I could tell from the stern tone. "You've barely touched your food."

I shoot him a reproachful look but otherwise ignore him.

"Sydney, please." Jill's gentle voice pierces me straight through, reminding me of the events from this morning.

I feel guilt rise up in my throat like bile and threaten to overflow my mouth. I'd woken up from one of the worst dreams I've had in months; Jill had woken me screaming from the burning chill of the nightmare. I remember opening my eyes but it wasn't the room I saw at first. I was still in the field of white ice and burning fire filled with thousands of ravens swarming me no matter where I ran. A voice drifts away from my ears the more I am awoken. Jill's face was paler than I'd ever seen it once I'd blinked away my dream and realized she was trying to calm me down. Her voice shook and rattled, saturating her words until she finally gave up talking altogether. I tried pushing her off of me, shoving her out of my room, but my motions went unnoticed. She clung to me until we both fell to the floor; spent, tired, trembling, and grieving.

"This isn't your problem," I told them. "I can deal with my issues on my own. Really. I'll be fine."

Eddie stared at me with level eyes for a few seconds before sighing and rubbing his eyes.

"You're right," he said. "It isn't our problem."

His voice has a sudden peculiar tone and instantly my guard is up. "What do you mean?"

Jill groans. "You didn't..."

Eddie slices his eyes towards Jill. "What did you expect me to do? She's barely eating or talking, leaving for random field trips? And after this morning, you're damn right I'm glad I called him." This time he has the nerve to look at me. "This is for your own good, Sydney."

My heart rate picks up as I try to catch up to Eddie's meaning. I can't read between the lines even though I'm struggling to. "Eddie, what have you done? Who did you call?"

As if on cue, I hear a sudden commotion outside the cafeteria doors. A few conversations around us slowly come to a halt as the voices, one angry, the others placating, rise higher the closer they come.

"Eddie?" I grind out through clenched teeth. I come up with a dozen faces but none of them would be worthy enough of a trip out to Palm Springs. Especially for me.

Jill has her head resting in her hand, tilted slightly to the right, watching as our situation slowly comes to a head. She has one eye lazily closed as she says to Eddie, "You may as well tell her. She's about to find out any moment now anyways."

Eddie nods, then turns back to me warily. "Don't freak out."

I raise an eyebrow. The voices outside the cafeteria are getting louder, almost impossible to ignore at this point. Eddie sighs again and checks his watch. "He arrived earlier than expected."

"_Who _is here earlier than you expected, Eddie?" I snap at him. I'm nervous and edgy from being overly aware of my surroundings this morning. My nerves are frayed and my patience is at its breaking point.

Eddie looks slightly uncomfortable, then straightens his shoulders, as if preparing for a sudden attack. "Christian."

I feel spots pop in front of my eyes as the name bounces in my head. The voices practically yelling right outside the doors now make a lot more sense. I'm in a daze as Jill sits up next to me and glances at Eddie. I'm trying to gather my mind around the fact that Christian is here, at school, most likely outside my cafeteria doors. The only soul who knows the truth about my torture in the caves, about my past, is less than 50 feet away from me. I know I can't face my best friend in my fragile condition. I need to be strong, not a frail creature barely able to keep herself together.

"I need to get to class," I say hurriedly, popping up from my seat. I grab my book bag and hastily swing the strap over my shoulder. Eddie is already out of his seat, trying to convince me to stay, but I barely hear him. I can't deal with Christian now. My locked door is still standing wide open, letting my secrets spill like dark ink on a blank page. My words are being written but the author is not myself. My heart is pounding with trepidation as I hear angry voices round the corner into the large room, one in particular causing me to stop in my tracks.

"And where," the all too familiar voice says. "Do you think you're going, _dear cousin?_"

My back is to Christian but I imagine his face is one of barely contained derision. His voice is dripping with the sarcasm that I've become accustomed to hearing in our talks on the phone. As I turn around, I know I'll see a tall, pale Moroi boy with piercing blue eyes and black hair but his unkempt state takes me aback. His clothes are completely rumpled, his hair is reaching new heights of dishevelment. Around his mouth are tight lines of worry and stress that tell me this isn't the happy family visit his tone tried to suggest.

"Christian," I try not to sound too taken aback by his appearance. "I didn't know you were flying out." I shoot Eddie a look. He only shrugs, telling me my feelings are going unnoticed.

Ugh.

"It's good I di-" Christian's stopped by one of the teachers that flanks his sides, saying something about school codes and is he sure he's related to me? I wish I could laugh.

"Sydney, is this boy related to you?" the teacher finally asks me. "If not, he'll have to be escorted off campus."

I stare at Christian for a long moment, weighing my options. If I say yes, he'll be able to come on and off campus whenever he wants. He'll have access to me to ask questions; surprising me. I'll have to stay on my guard at every second... But if I say no...

"Yes, he's related to me," I agree reluctantly. "He's my second cousin." I cough "Twice removed."

The teacher doesn't hear me, only nods and gives assent that my confirmation is good enough for her. I turn back to Christian once she's gone and notice he's looking around the cafeteria with a slight curl of his lip.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just..."

"You're spoiled."

He shrugs. "Call it what you like. But our Moroi chefs have a much finer setup back at Court."

I scoff. "You live with the Queen. This is hardly a fair comparison."

"Did you eat?"

I swallow the groan I almost release. "Yes, we can go."

Christian grabs my arm. "Sydney. Did you eat?"

I bow my head for a second. This is almost too reminiscent of a conversation Adrian and I had many times when we were together before... "Let it go, Christian. You made a trip out here for nothing. Can't you see there's nothing here for you?"

We're still in the middle of the cafeteria, but most of the students have left for their morning classes already. Jill and Eddie are hanging out by the table where we were eating. Christian and I have moved a few feet away, keeping our voices low. I know they aren't going to stop watching me anytime soon, especially not after this morning.

"Don't bother, Sydney. It won't work. I can see you're in pieces," Christian whispers near my face.

"I'm doing my job just fine," I say stiffly. "My marks haven't gone down and yesterday was the first class I didn't attend. Why is everyone making such a big deal about this?"

Christian's mouth tightens. "It's been six months and you haven't changed, Sydney. I talk to you nearly every week, and your voice... You're dead."

"What did you expect me to do, Christian?" I hiss. "Stand up and do back flips as soon as I came back to Palm Springs? Back to where there are reminders of him everywhere? Sit meekly waiting for information? Turn back into good ol' reliable Sydney Sage once more?"

He sighs, running a hand wearily through his hair then down his face. His jawline and upper lip are dotted with hair, emphasizing his haggard appearance. My heart stutters with guilt for a second as I take in how his pale blue eyes are clouded and ringed with a purple shadow of worry. For me, I realize with a start.

"I never expected you to withdrawal into a zombie, Sydney," Christian is still whispering. "That night you called me, when Eddie brought you back to Court..."

My fingers clench around the simple truth that Christian can't be here. It's not that I don't want him here with me; in fact, a small part of me was relieved to hear his voice ring through the cafeteria. But the clear fact is that I can't continue on with Eddie, Jill, and, worst of all, Christian, looking over my shoulder.

"No," my voice whips between us. "We're not doing this. Don't you dare take me back to that night in the hopes that it will wake me up, Christian."

I pivot on my heel right as his face registers surprise from my angry outburst. I storm over to where Jill and Eddie are waiting at our table with my book bag in tow. Eddie and Jill both look at me warily.

"I can't believe you called him without my permission," I say slowly and calmly.

"We thought he would help you," Jill says shakily. Her green eyes are wide with remorse. "You've been so down and you talk to him so often that Eddie thought-"

"Stop." I lift a hand to signal Jill to stop talking. "That doesn't excuse the fact that you still had zero right to bring him out here without asking my permission. There's no use for Christian here. I'm perfectly fine."

"Sydney!" Eddie banged his hand on the table, emphasizing my name with a loud _SMACK! _"You're not okay and you are perfectly aware of it. Stop playing dumb. You've been checked out for six months now. Time to get yourself together. You can't stay like this forever. Adrian isn't coming back anytime soon and the sooner you wrap your head around that, the better off we'll all be."

"Yes," Christian drawled behind me. "That was nice and subtle, Castile."

My face is thin parchment stretched too far over sharp bones. I can feel my skin losing what little blood I had left in my face at Eddie's comment. My feelings twist and surge, slowly crashing their way towards another coast, one that isn't mine, that thrusts me into a rip tide of sensation and pain. My memories throw me onto the sand, gasping and choking on the bitter water that stings and burns every tiny slice and cut I've gotten since I was found. There are so many and I'm choking from the pain.

There are several beats of shocked silence before Eddie speaks.

"I'm sor-Sydney I didn't mean-" Eddie began, regret pulsing through his voice.

"No that's the problem, isn't it?" I look him dead in the eye. "I'm afraid you did, Eddie."

I walk away from the three Morois and out of the cafeteria. The morning is starting off crisp but I feel the heat edging out the lingering cool in order to make way for the humidity. As I enter my class building, I realize today will be the start to a very long day.

And I haven't even had my first cup of coffee yet.

My classes are all uneventful up until History.

I stay quiet and to myself like usual. My teachers ignore me like our normal routine, which I appreciate immensely, and I watch the clock tick down the seconds until I have to face Christian again. I'm not looking forward to seeing him in the flesh again; a fresh knife in the gut that he is actually here and not just another nightmare. My body jerks into a shiver as I remember the ravens and burning field I'd woken up screaming from. The silken whisper is like smoke in my mind, slipping effortlessly through my cracks and creases, never letting me get a tight grip on it's source.

I'm sitting in the back of Ms. Termilliger's History class at my usual desk now. Trey is sitting across the room far away from mine. He stopped sitting next to me a few weeks after Adrian disappeared; after my sense of self collapsed. I broke off from everyone I had formed attachments with in order to preserve myself from any difficult feelings. Julia and Kristen barely look at me anymore, much less talk to me. Not that I blame them. I blatantly denied their attempts to try to unfold myself from the cocoon I'd nestled myself into.

I stare at my blank notebook page attempting to think up scenarios of escape and distraction. Ms. Terwilliger is lecturing about Native Americans, a subject I would have once found fascinating, but now I'm only half listening. My head is on the Moroi Royal I know is outside of my building somewhere waiting for me to get out of class. Waiting to interrogate me.

I slip out of my desk as the bell rings. I try and take my time, slipping my books in my bag as slowly as I possibly can. I hope that if I take a long time walking out Christian will get impatient and give up for today; I know it's a stupid plan. Christian is the most stubborn Moroi I've ever met and giving up to him is the same as dying a slow death.

As I pass Ms. Terwilliger's desk, I'm still in deep thought over my problems with Christian so I don't see her sneak in front of me to stop my track out of her class.

"Miss Sage," she says. I stagger to a stop, surprised she's talking to me. I'd quit her independent studies class a few months earlier. I'd come back from Court with a clean bill of physical health but I had been injured in other ways significantly. My body was scarred and bruised, while my psyche cracked and bled form the inside. I wasn't sure who I was anymore, just that I couldn't look down at my hands without seeing grime and blood spread all over; guilt in it's purest form. Grief unfiltered. My magic was now officially a closed door to me. I had let so many little things slide with the lessons and studies and notes. My time for bending the rules of the Alchemists was up. Ms. Terwilliger was shocked to see a different Sydney Sage walk through her door and quietly demand she be let free of her duties.

I wasn't angry when I entered her office those six months ago; I was scared, terrified, cornered.

"Sydney, you're making a grave mistake," Ms. Terwilliger said, eyes never leaving my face.

"This isn't a really class," I say. My hoarse was barely above a hoarse whisper. "It was made voluntarily. I'm not seeing a problem."

"You have so much potential," she said, softly, gently. My fists clenched tightly before I relaxed my arms. "You can't give up now. There are other ways to find your Moroi friend. I can help yo-"

"No." My voice cracked across hers like a rock against cement. "You're not _listening_. I'm not using magic again, ever. It's a horrible, awful creation and I don't want to be a part of it any longer."

Ms. Terwilliger stared at me for a few seconds before folding her arms. "Well, then, Sydney, we are at an impass. Because I _do _expect you to finish your duties as my independent study student. Whether or not your 'friend' has gone missing."

I opened my mouth to argue but she held up a finger. "I will, however, give you some time. Of course, it may be a week, it may be a few months. I'm not sure. But I will have work for you whenever I deem fit."

Now Ms. Terwilliger is standing in front of me in her classroom six months later, blocking my exit, with a look of amusement. I feel my stomach drop out beneath me as I realize she's come to me to utilize my study capabilities. I bite my tongue to catch the scream rising up from my throat. It isn't her fault she chose the same day Christian arrived on campus, after all.

"Miss Sage," she says again. "I have a book for you to transcribe."

"A... book?" I say warily.

Her lips hitch up at the corners in a half-smile. "No need to be so skittish, Miss Sage. This isn't magic-related in the least."

I almost fall into a pool at her feet. "It's not?"

"No," she shakes her head, her brown hair swinging over her shoulders. "This has something to do with the lecture I gave today. Did you hear it?"

"On Native American colonies after European colonization in 1492? Yes, ma'am. I heard all of it," I reply immediately.

Ms. Terwilliger's amused expression deepens to something reminiscent of fondness. "I don't have it here with me at the moment, do you mind waiting?"

I look at the time at the clock, then shake my head. "I can't, unfortunately. I have someone waiting for me. My cousin just arrived this morning and he has a knack for being rather... impatient."

Ms. Terwilliger cocks her head. "That was your cousin making all that ruckus this morning?"

I nod my head. "Yes, ma'am. He's kind of the black sheep of the family."

"I see. Well then, I'll have it delivered to your room later this afternoon."

"Thank you, ma'am. I better get going to meet my cousin." I move to walk past her but she stops me again.

"Sydney-" She hesitates.

"Yes?"

She gazes at me for a long second before moving out of my way. "I expect you to have the chapters I request transcribed done and on my desk by Friday."

I nod again. I hadn't expected anything less.

Christian is waiting outside the building when I finally leave Ms. Terwilliger's class. The heat hits me first and then I notice the brilliant blue of the sun. There's a light wind but besides that the weather has picked up exactly as I thought it would: hot. I spot Christian leaning against a cement wall under a shade of trees. I considered for a moment leaving him there then decide better of it. Hitching my bag a little higher on my shoulder, I resign myself to the interrogation I was about to be put through.

Then something occurs to me.

Christian. Outside. Heat. Sun.

I remember the day Adrian let himself be out in the sun too long, just too see me be happy for an extra few minutes. It wasn't pretty. I run from where I stand in the sun, to Christian, who's skin is a light pink and dotted with sweat here and there. He is watching me run from the building to where he is standing.

"Where's the fire, Sydney?" His lips turn up a little, letting me know his joke did not go unnoticed.

I ignore his pun. "Christian, what are you doing in the sun?! You'll get sick."

I grab his arm and start pulling him away. "I can walk myself, thanks. I can stand a little heat."

I give him an irritated look but keep walking towards the girl's dorms. "I don't want to have to deal with you fainting on me. I've seen the effects the sun has on the Moroi, Christian."

He snorts. "I wield fire, Sydney. I think my body can withstand some Vitamin D."

"Whatever. What do you think will happen if something happens to you on campus, Christian? Did you think of that?"

His face freezes for a second, giving me the answer I had already known.

"Of course not. You just wanted to prove a point to me. And you have. Just like you and Eddie have by flying yourself out here under my nose."

"Okay, okay. Hold on a second, Sydney." He grabs my hand with his, pulling me to a stop. "I came out here because I care about you, okay? We're all really worried about you but I... When Eddie called me yesterday I finally gave in and told Lissa I had to come out here. She understood immediately, of course. She's been just as worried about you. But you have to know, Sydney, I'm not here to prove a point or out here on some Save Sydney mission. I'm here to help you in any way I can. I'm here as your friend. We're buddies, remember?"

My hand felt limp in his as his eyes held me in place. His expression was gravely serious and his voice was pleading with me to understand, pulsing through my every sense, telling me that Christian was the only person I could trust at this moment. He stood there grasping my hand in his as Adrian had done so many times, but I felt different this time because Christian was different; so, completely, different.

"I... Yes, I know," my voice is suddenly swollen with emotion. I clear it before I speak again. "Let's get you inside. Where did you go while I was in class?"

Christian looks uncomfortable for a second, then "Adrian's."

I stumble. "_What?_"

"Yeah. I know. I had a few hours to kill. I'm surprised all of his furniture hasn't been packed up and moved out yet."

It's my turn to look uncomfortable. "I-I wouldn't let them. The Alchemists wanted to put it in storage but Jill convinced them not to for me."

Christian only nods, then wipes his forehead. "You know, it's a lot drier out here in Palm Spr-"

Suddenly, Christian pitches forward. I catch him by the shoulders before he hits his head against the hot concrete.

"Christian!" I squeak. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm alright," he says, irritated. "This damn heat got the better of me after all. Can you help me inside?"

"I _told_ you not to stand outside for this long!" I haul his arm over my should and trudge himself and I the rest of the way to the dormitory.

Once there, I put him on one of the couches in the lobby. Christian is all too eager for a chance to lay himself across the plush material. I only shake my head as I walk towards the receptionist who is currently on duty.

"Hello," I say politely, putting forward my friendliest smile. She looks frightened at my attempts at being cheery. I don't blame her. My cheerful side has been lost at sea for a long, long time.

"Sydney!" She almost puts a hand over her chest then drops it just as quickly. "You... You look wel-better! What can I do for you, dear?"

"My cousin isn't feeling well," I pointed to the black mass currently moaning on the couch behind me, "and I was wondering if he could come up to my room with me?"

The receptionist narrows her eyes at Christian, then looks back to me. I cross my fingers under the desk, still smiling my huge, fake smile. She finally consents by nodding.

"I heard your cousin arrived this morning," she said, smiling kindly. "Made quite an entrance."

I clear my throat. "Uh, yes... He gets overprotective sometimes."

"Well, he can go up but he needs to leave before curfew," she said, shaking her index finger at me. I nod, smiling, already backing away towards Christian.

"Of course. I wouldn't dream of breaking the rules."

"'I wouldn't dream of breaking the rules,'" Christian smirks as I half-carry him up the stairs. "Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"Careful. I can drop you down these stairs, you know, Ozera."

"Yeah, yeah. I just need to get some sleep and blood in my system then I will be right as rain."

I sigh as we make our way down the hall to my room. Opening the door is a little tricky with Christian leaning against me so I end up letting the wall support him as I open it. I gather him back over my shoulder then slide him onto my bed. He sighs as his back hit the soft mattress and comforter. He takes a deep breath, stretching his arms wide above his head, then stills.

"Why do you have that smell in your room?"

"What smell?"

"Like...," he sniffs again, sitting up on his elbows. "I'm not sure, it's kind of faint. Did you leave food out or something?"

"_Me_?" I cross my arms. "You're joking, right?"

"Not really."

I snort. "Well I can't smell anything. Are you sure it's not something from one of the other dorms? Some of the other girls are pretty messy..."

Christian shakes his head. "No, I only smelled it when I walked into your room."

I sigh. "We had a problem with rats two months ago a few doors down from me. It could be that again."

Christian's face is still troubled. "Maybe."

"Are you feeling better?"

He looks up. "Wha-Oh, yeah. Like I said, all I need is a little blood, then I will be good to go."

I sit down in my desk chair across from him. "What are you going to do about that? Where are you going to stay? You know you can't stay here right?"

"Yes, I'm perfectly aware of that, Sydney. I'm staying at a hotel not far away form here."

"Have you found a feeder?"

"About that..."

"You want me to call the Alchemists about a feeder."

Christian grins, wide. "Pretty please."

I roll my eyes and calculate how long until I can politely kick him out. "I'll call Stanton tonight. Anything else?"

"How abou-"

Before Christian can finish I hear a knock at my door. I shrug and tell him to hold that thought as I walk to open my door. Ms. Terwiliger is there, holding an intimidating leather bound book with a post-it on the front.

"Well, are you going to invite me in, or keep me standing in the hallway?" she says, in her usual brisk tone.

"Ms. Terwiliger, I-I wha-what are you doing here?" I splutter. My history teacher does not, I repeat, _does not_, deliver the books I'm to be writing notes from.

"My independent student tried to quit, the receptionist downstairs isn't on duty, and I am here, delivering your book. Oh, hello." She waves to Christian. "You must be the infamous cousin."

Christian smirks as he waves from my bed. "That's me. Christian Ozera."

Recognition lit her eyes as she takes in his pale skin, now translucent from his recent fainting spell. "I see. Yes, you made quite the commotion this morning, young man."

Christian's eyes slide over to mine then move back to Ms. Terwiliger's. "Nothing I wouldn't do for family. I'm sure you would agree."

I can feel Ms. Terwiliger's interest growing in Christian as the conversation between them continued. I have to stop this before they start talking about magical properties and fire-topics I knew that will eventually come to light.

"_Well_," I say loudly, interrupting their conversation, "Christian and I were just heading out, weren't we Christian?"

"We were?"

"_Yes_."

"Nonsense. Whatever it is can wa-," Ms. Terwiliger says, pushing past me. As she does, I see her come to a stop just beyond my threshold, her speech stumbling abruptly.

"My God, Sydney, what have you been doing?" She turns slowly toward me, her face chalk white.

I startle, not sure how to respond to this sudden change of events. Even Christian looks startled from my bed. He is hovering on the edge with slightly wide eyes.

"Ms. Terwiliger?" I ask. She doesn't respond, only continues looking wildly around my room as if searching for something. "Jackie?"

She spins her head swiftly in my direction. "You can't sense it?"

"Sense _what_?"

"Wait," Christian says. "You _can_? What is it?"

Ms. Terwiliger shakes her head at first, stepping closer into the room. "I'm not sure, I'd have to find the source and examine the piece it's confined to. It is powerful though. Extremely."

"What do you mean, 'powerful'?" Christian says, testily. "What is she talking about, Sydney?"

The last question was directed towards me but I'm still stuck by the door, paralyzed. Ms. Terwiliger answers for him anyways.

"Magic, my dear boy. Can't you feel it in the air?" She whispers. "The atmosphere is different in this room than it is in the hallway, isn't it? Heavier?"

Christian stands up and walks towards me. "Is she sane?"

I nod, my voice still gone. With Christian's eyes on me I have to keep a veil over my face, a false disguise to prove to him I am not falling apart inside. My body shivers at the thought of magic, of any sort, being so close to me. I'd hoped that magic was gone from my life forever. I tried to create a wall between myself and the life I'd grown accustomed to before. Now it is back to torment me; clinging to me like a haunting shadow of the past.

Jackie is now scouring my room, slowly moving from one end to the next. Her face is one of intense concentration as she tries to feel out the source of the magic. She looks through my drawers, under my dresser.

I sniff the air every now and then to try and place the smell, but to no avail. The air is still just as clear and fresh as when I woke up this morning. I ponder this as Jackie let's out a small gasp in front of my desk.

"I feel it."

My heart is assaulted with a thousand tiny pins.

"What?" She's staring down at my pile of books.

"It's somewhere on your desk," she says excitedly. "Do you know what it could be?"

I don't hear her at first. All that makes up my desk are school books and pencils and paper. How could any of those items have a high level spell cast upon them?

And then I remember.

Adrian's picture is hidden among the pages of my school books on the desk.

Adrian's picture is enchanted? My mind is frantic as I run through faces. Trey? The Alchemists? Trey's contacts? I mentally cross them all off my lists. What would be the point? I don't understand why anyone would want to put a cursed picture in my hands to begin with.

Christian looks down at me, but I refuse to meet his gaze. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. I don't want to tell them what's on the table. My fingernails bite into my palms as if to tunnel all the words I should say into my skin instead of into the infected air.

Christian touches my shoulder with his hand.

"Sydney. What's on the table?"

"I..." My eyes meet Christian's slightly worried gaze with a troubled one of my own. "You can't tell anyone I know."

"Know wha-Sydney?"

I push the door closed behind me. "I know Adrian is in Louisiana."

Christian's face registers surprise before it's wiped clean. "Louisiana?" he echoes. "Sydney, you _found _him?"

I hesitate. Ms. Terwilliger is sorting through my books on the desk. I know I only have a few minutes, at best, to explain to Christian.

"Sort of," I waver. "And you don't have to pretend like you're clueless, Christian. I have the picture."

"_Picture?_" Christian sputters. He genuinely looks as if he has no idea what I am talking about. I start to feel a little unsure, but push on anyways.

I nod. "I have a picture of him-or who I believe is him-in Louisiana. I received it yester-"

"I found it," Ms. Terwilliger interrupts from behind us. She holds up the familiar grainy photo that I knew better than the loops of my handwriting. Each face in the photo felt more at home than my own.

All except one covered in unruly hair turned away by the hotel doors.

"Is that it?" Christian asks me, voice laced with a tinge of unease. "The picture?"

"Yes," I whisper. "It's him, Christian. I swear it."

He crosses to Ms. Terwilliger, who is currently examining the cursed photo. "And it's been... what? Jinxed?"

Ms. Terwilliger looks up at me for a second, eyes sharp and brilliantly intelligent. I realize she's holding a magical amulet in her hand.

"Sydney," she asks, "how have you been sleeping?"

"Excuse me?" I ask sharply.

"Have you had any unusual dreams lately? Nightmares?"

"What does Sydney's sleep patterns have to do with anything?" Christian demands.

Jackie ignores him as her and I lock eyes for a few moments longer. The silence stretches out between us before her lips twitch and I finally look away, defeated.

"When?" she asks, not unkindly.

"Last night. I-I don't remember very much." My throat is dry, trying to unleash the hated words from my throat. I can feel my secrets tumbling from my soul little by little.

"Sydney, this photo has been charmed with a very strong summoning spell. It's complex and highly out of my league. But just from the few minutes I've had, it seems it's a sleep summoning spell."

My words are stifled by a thousand tissues stuffed into my mouth.

"That's impossible," I choke out. "A sleep...spell?"

"I'm afraid so."

Christian, who has been looking at the picture, now stares at me intently. "What does this mean for her?"

"Well," Jackie replies. "It seems as if someone is trying very hard to come into contact with you under the radar. And through your dreams."

"The better question is, why bother?" Christian asks. "I mean, who would go through all the trouble of cursing a picture in the hopes it would get to Sydney in the first place?"

I'm silent as Jackie and Christian regard me with curious expressions. My stomach tilts and shifts with queasiness as I try to formulate thoughts into words. My dream comes back to me vividly, more clearly than this morning when I crawled out of bed. The smell of fire fills my nose, the acrid taste of smoke and burning grassland is strong on my tongue. I cough as I look out at the now-cleared misty figure; my cry is strangled among another wave of nausea.

_Adrian._

The word that claws it's way out of my throat like an animal trying to escape a cage it's been bound to. The word that last leaves my lips before Christian catches me as I stagger backwards, his bloodless face filling up the room.

Adrian Ivashkov is calling me. It's up to me to return it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey sorry it's been so long since I've updated guys! I lost track of time and became very unmotivated to write, well, anything. But I suddenly started waking up these past few days with an itch to write and finish Sydney and Adrian's story before school starts. I hope you like it and if you have any questions about the new chapter(s) let me know via my tumblr, NOT on here(I very rarely check it after I've posted a story).**

** My tumblr is michealfjordbak thank!**_  
_

**As for chapter notes, I put in "two" chapters. Chapter four is future Sydney, speaking to you from after the story is over and done with. Then Chapter 5 starts off where we left off from Chapter 3 more or less I guess. Again, any questions hit the tumblog yo. Thanks again guys! I love you all! 333**

* * *

_I asked my mother about the painting constantly after our visit to the art exhibit. _

_"Why would someone paint something so-so extreme?" I would ask, my voice shaking. _

_My mother only smiled, bending down to look into my eyes. She held my hands in her own. "Artists paint whatever they feel at the moment, Sydney. They paint from the heart. What you saw on the canvas, baby? That was a piece of the artist's heart."_

_I glanced back towards the chaotic painting. _Frailty in Balance_. Was this how the artist felt all the time? Or just at the moment? I couldn't imagine then any of the Alchemists my father brought home having these types of feelings. It seemed like too much emotion for one body to handle._

_The title seemed appropriate. If one person had that much emotion, it seemed apt that it be vomited onto a canvas of some sorts, a type of medium for their overflow of sensations. _

_How could such a monster possibly walk around with a face so similar to mine? _

_I smiled shakily towards my mother._

* * *

If I had known going into Ms. Terwiliger's house, knowing what I know now, would I go back and do it again? Would I rewind my life clock, reverse the events, change what happened?

Maybe. Maybe I would.

But I'm a different person now than I was before. Standing in front of her house was a completely different Sydney Sage. A tormented girl wrought with sorrow and complicated emotions. Blood and loss were clumped into the same category for her; I would find out later they are in completely separate classes.

I should have known to go back to magic. I should have picked myself up, and fought harder. Magic has been my solution all along to everything. I was too ignorant and scared to see the answer in front of me all along. But they knew. The witches. The Moroi. The Strigoi.

I wasn't ready.

I was weak back then. My mind wasn't capable of handling the atrocities I'm more than capable of now.

Christian's hand in mine was a comfort back then. I will be forever grateful for the strength his friendship granted me.

* * *

Chapter 5

I felt the pressure of Christian's hand in mine as I walked towards Ms. Terwilliger's small one-story house. I tried to ignore the constant building of unease in my chest the closer I came to her front door. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized what I was about to participate in. I cut magic out of my life but it still flows right back in, like water flowing through the cracks.

I stopped Christian mid-step on Ms. Terwilliger's walkway. "Tell me again why this is a good idea."

Christian's face registered a mix of sympathy and worry before he masked it. "Because you know as well as I do that magic is our best shot to figuring out and understanding your dream. He's trying to get inside your head and summon you, Sydney. We need to know why."

"But Eddie and Jill-"

"They'll never know."

"How can you be so sure? Eddie knows about the picture, Christian. Yet he didn't even tell me? How can I trust him?"

"Sydney, he's still the same Eddie. He has his reasons for not telling you. For now, what happens tonight stays between us. But we're going to need to trust him eventually."

I nodded, not liking the idea. I stalled for a little more time before finishing the last few steps to Ms. Terwilliger's door. Christian sensed my apprehension. "Hey. Look at me."

I looked up. Christian leaned his face close to mine, cupping my face in his hands. "I'm not going to bullshit this for you, Sydney. This is going to be difficult. Tonight will be painful. Emotionally, and probably even physically. This dream of yours- you're going to have to relive every second, and it's going to suck. We need to know what he wants from you so we can keep you safe. But you _will _be okay. Remember, I'm here with you every step of the way."

He held my gaze for a few more beats, his hands still holding my face. The night air held a hint of the earlier warmth from the day but for now it was calm and cool on her driveway. The stars bloomed above us in the inky night sky. I slowly became more relaxed and confident about what we were to undertake. Christian was right. No matter what happened to me in there, I trusted him to keep me safe. I was pleasantly surprised to realize I trusted Ms. Terwilliger, too.

Christian's lips tugged into a small smile as he slowly released my face. He slipped his hand back into mine, giving me one quick reassuring squeeze. Ms. Terwilliger must have heard us talking because her door opened before we had a chance to knock or ring her doorbell. She ushered us inside impatiently with a quick flick of a hand.

Ms. Terwilliger's house looked the same since the last time I'd visited. A simple living room greeted you, leading off to a small hallway and a kitchen. She gestured towards the couch, motioning for us to sit. Christian stiffened as we stepped further into the room.

"This house," he began slowly, "has the same smell as her dorm."

Ms. Terwilliger glanced between us, obviously catching the question in his voice. "Correct. I have to use similar ingredients for the spell we'll use in order to draw out your dream."

Having Ms. Terwiliger say the words so bluntly made my situation more real somehow. Before, I was able to ignore the magic, even though I was surrounded by it. But now my eyes were forced open. My body wanted to panic, lock up, and throw away the key. I wouldn't give it the satisfaction.

I looked into my mysterious History teacher's eyes instead.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Your job is quite simple, Sydney. All you need to do is fall asleep for us. The spell works like a type of hypnosis where it will put you in a state halfway between dreaming and waking. When we have you in this state, we'll draw out the truth of his spell. You'll be awake enough to answer our questions, but in a deep enough sleep to remember the dream he put you under. Now, here comes the tricky part..."

"Tricky part?" I squeak.

Ms. Terwiliger nods, her face growing still more serious. "I'm afraid this could go one of two ways, Sydney. The spell we're about to perform opens a door to two sides of your subconscious. One that we have control of and one that this Adrian has created. The only way to make sure the spell succeeds is if both doors are opened at the same time."

"Giving him free rein to my subconscious and signaling to him what we're up to," I groaned. Christian practically snarled beside me.

"Did you know this the whole time? Kept this tucked in your back pocket to pull out at the eleventh hour, eh, old lady? I can't believe this."

Ms. Terwiliger didn't show any signs that she'd heard Christian-she was still staring at me. "You're mind has been his since you were given that photo. We can do this, Sydney. We must do this. A spell this strong must not be ignored. Next time, your dream may not be just a dream. He may call to you. He may summon you to him, and you will have no free will to refuse him. You will have to go to him. Would you want that choice taken away from you? Not knowing what's waiting for you on the other side?"

Again, my senses filled with the acrid smell of fire and ash. Black wings. I felt bile burn my throat as I tried to recall the dream that brought me screaming to reality just that morning. The icy voice drifting further away the more I tried to remember it. No. No, I didn't want to wait for the summons that would surely follow.

"Let's get this over with," I said.

She nodded, turning to Christian. "We'll need everyone on board, young man. I'll need all the help I can get while the doors are open. Are you up for it?"

Christian smirked. "I thought you'd never ask."

The room Ms. Terwiliger led us to was smaller than I expected. As she opened the door, the smells hit us first, then the heaviness of the different fragrances. There was a clear line between the light of the hallway and the murky darkness of the room beyond. I sensed Christian's tension beside me as he hesitated.

"Hey." I touched his shoulder briefly. "We're in this together, right?"

He looked down at me with surprise. "Always."

"Good." I smiled a little, following Ms. Terwiliger into the gloom.

I expected the room to be stuffy and warm but I was surprised to find the air biting into my skin with a bitter chill. Briefly I wondered why then firmly focused my mind on the tasks at hand. I would need every mental advantage I had if I were to make it through this night unscathed. I shivered and wrapped my arms around my middle.

"Sydney." Ms. Terwiliger gestured to a covered mass in front of her.

In the middle of the room was a makeshift bed surrounded by multiple burning spices set up on little boxes. The walls were bare except for a few large pentagrams that looked as if they'd been painted on. I tried to identify each smell but they were all swirling together in the air in a heady mix. My head began to swim in a sluggish way causing my steps to stumble as I walked toward the bed.

"Sydney?" Christian asked worriedly, catching my arm. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I-I'm fine." But my words came out slurred. I looked towards Ms. Terwiliger's blurred form. "Whash happenin' to meh?"

"Sydney?!" Christian exclaimed. "What's going on?"

"Oh, don't be such a ninny. The spell is just working into her system. She'll fall asleep soon and then we'll need to work fast to connect the pathways and protect her from whatever may come through."

"_If _something tries to come through," Christian corrected her.

She caught his glare. "Right. 'If.'"

I put my last amount of strength into straightening up further. My head spun crazily. "Wha' 'ou mean, '_if_'?"

Ms. Terwiliger sighed. "Please, Sydney. We need to work fast. Christian put her on the bed. _Now._"

Sensing the urgency in her command, Christian didn't waste anymore time and helped set me down on the bed. I felt my body melt into the tough material at my back. It wasn't the most comfortable of beds but the combination of the spell and cloudy dizziness in my head, the table felt like heaven.

"Are you ready?" My history teacher hovered over my left shoulder, her face more drawn than usual. Christian's face nodded over my right.

Smoke swirled above my head in lazy circles as my eyelids grew heavier.

A shadow passed through the smoke. Wings beat in the distance.

"Chri-"

Everything went black.

* * *

I felt the pain first. Liquid fire bleeding through my veins. My limbs are scorched from within and I am nothing. I'm everything. I can't ignore the pain but I do my best to try to distance myself from it. My blood is fighting to break out of my skin, scraping through the surface like thousands of deadly knives beneath my skin. My eyes are closed but the only color I see is red-ironic, really, since it's the only color I feel.

I'm afraid to open my eyes.

I arch my back against another spasm of pain. This one rockets through me, contracting my muscles, tearing me in half. I scream, long and hard, trying to force the tidal wave of fear and terror out of me. My mind is a red haze. The pain is all I know now. I never did have a high tolerance, I remember idly.

How did this happen? Is this part of the spell Ms. Terwilliger put on me?

Was this part of my dream?

I close my eyes once more as a darkness slowly, blissfully, comes over me once more.

* * *

How do you judge time based on pain? I couldn't explain it to you even if I tried.

I attempted to count the seconds but the longer I was stuck in the room, trapped with just my mind, and my pain, and my emotions, the more I lost pieces myself. They splintered off minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day. The pain never ebbed. I would pass out at times, letting my exhaustion take me under, only to wake up to the same horrible ordeal. My body was racked with a fire I couldn't extinguish. My lungs barely took in air between each scream. I was a prisoner burning alive but never dying.

I've asked too many times how long I was trapped in my head.

The thing is, memory recall ceases to function when your inner being is left in an agonizing heap on the floor at your feet.

* * *

A caress. A touch.

I felt warm, familiar. Safe. I knew this feeling; I remembered. I thought I'd lost it somewhere between my grief and revenge. I remember fingers, covered in paint, moving gleefully over a blank canvas. Turning an ordinary white sheet into a brilliant clash of colors that only made sense to those fingers. I started to understand Adrian a little better after watching him paint for hours. He would paint everything he felt, whether it be bright and golden or dark and brooding. Adrian's heart was in his art.

* * *

My heart is pounding. I wait anxiously for the pain to start like a tidal wave against my nerves. I feel raw and torn. I can't remember the last time I woke up without feeling the burn assault my body. My lips are chapped from lack of hydration, my skin is gritty from sweat. My days have been filled with so much confusion and pain; I don't dare give in to the hope that threatens to overflow my body.

I wonder where I am, where Christian and Ms. Terwilliger are. How long have I been stuck in this nightmare?

I take in my surroundings and stifle a gasp. I'm laying on a king-size bed with an expensive dark blue comforter and various shades of beige pillows. The bed has been decorated with a canopy and simple blue trim all around the edges. The rest of the room has basic furniture; an antique dresser, bedside table, and an oval full-length mirror in the corner of the room. A single window gives the room a homey glow. A hallway leads off from the open doorway towards the rest of the residence.

Curious, I sit up to silently make my way to the window. I wonder where my mind has taken me. It was then I noticed I was in a completely different outfit. Gone were the slacks and dress shirt from when I'd fallen under the spell; I now had on a simple tank top and pajama shorts.

"Wha-?"

"I was starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up, Sage."

I whirled. My feet skittered backwards until I finally fell ungraciously onto my butt. I hadn't sensed anyone else in my room besides me. He'd been silently watching me from the corner, watching me wake up, take in my surroundings. I hastily took in his appearance. This boy standing in front of me looked nothing like the boy in the picture I'd been given by Trey's informants. Adrian's hair was now cropped short on the sides, leading to a slightly longer buzz cut on the surface of his head. He leaned casually, arms folded across his chest, but I knew better. His nonchalance hid a monster my Adrian had never once exhibited or needed to control. The lips I once heard whisper _I love you_ were now pulled into a disturbing sneer; it was more of an insult with fangs.

My mind went blank as I felt my heart ice over then crack, crack, _break. _I realized now how stupid I'd been trying to chase him. This wasn't Adrian staring back at me. It was an abomination. A monster sent to force it's way into my life only to bring me crumbling to my knees.

I shuffled further backwards.

Adrian laughed; a nasty, cold sound. "You don't have to look so scared, Sage. I'm not here to hurt you. If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you hours ago."

My heart thumped painfully. "Where am I?"

"My home."

I flinched. "In Louisiana?"

Adrian cocked his head, turning slightly more serious. "Does it hurt you that I call this home now? And not Palm Springs? With you."

"I don't care what you do. You're not who you were. You're not _you. _You're an evil-"

Adrian's eyes gleamed. "-creature of the night? Ah, yes. The old Moroi v. Strigoi lecture. Good v. Evil. Virtuous v. Wicked. Love v. Hate. How petty, Sage. I see you really haven't changed since I left you. You have so much brilliance at your disposal yet you aren't confident enough to really use it."

I stiffened, his words ripping through me. "Did you finally summon me?"

Adrian's eyes were focused on me, moving up and down my frame restlessly. I gritted my teeth, ignoring the flush that threatened to creep over my face. As if sensing my discomfort, Adrian's smirk grew slowly into a grin. "No, Sage. I didn't need to summon you. All I had to do was wait for you and your wonderful Ms. Terwilliger to open the second door to your subconscious. Then I pulled you through myself for a little chat."

I frowned. "Pull me through? My mind?"

Adrian sighed. "No. It's similar to your spirit but not quite as potent. A mixture of both, if you will. Spirit and mind."

"How did you know we were opening the connection?"

"I've been watching and waiting."

I made an impatient noise. "Okay, but how? Last time I checked, Strigoi weren't psychic or telekinetic."

He grinned. "No, we aren't."

I shook my head. He was baiting me. I knew this interrogation technique well. I swept my eyes around the room, over the door to the open hallway. I needed to get out of here as fast as possible. Whatever "chat" Adrian had in mind would have to wait.

I leaned forward, then threw my body backwards, hitting my head against the wall as hard as I could. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

Adrian growled, low and fierce. _"What are you doing?"_

My vision blurred but I leaned forward again and smashed my skull into the wall. If this was a dream, I could hopefully cause enough damage to send myself back into the real world. Judging what Adrian had told me, he wanted me unscathed and alive.

I would hurt myself until he had no choice but to send me back.

I gasped out as the pain shook through me. Adrian still stood across the room but his arms were now hanging by his sides.

"Send me..." Gasp, gasp. "Back."

"Sage, don't be an idiot. This won't accomplish anything for you except pissing me off."

I laughed, leaning forward once more. "Wouldn't want that, would we?"

My head made the journey but never connected with the wall. Adrian's hand gripped my shirt front, bringing me up towards his face. His other hand had my wrists in a painful hold behind my back. My feet dangled in the air as he held me eye level. I stopped moving, hanging limp in his grip. His eyes were red fire but his body was so still I almost forgot he was actually alive. The thing about Strigoi, no one had warned me how _normal _they would seem. Besides his chalk-white skin and red eyes, I had to admit this Adrian still looked the same. I felt his heart beating through his palms against my wrists, and even though every beat was a terrible lie, it was a lie I secretly wanted to believe.

Adrian didn't snarl or snap like I would expect a Strigoi to. He didn't make a stupid quip like my Adrian would. He only stared at me for a few seconds before smiling. This smile was a pure massacre of teeth and death.

"It would be smart for you to start remembering that I am not the same boy you left crying and sniveling for your safety in the caves. I'm not here to protect your pretty little ass anymore. We have a..." his eyes slide over my body lasciviously, "..._need _for you, Sage. And hurting yourself to get under my skin isn't going to win yourself any brownie points."

He brought me closer. "In fact, it's only going to make me wish I could kill you sooner. So I would think twice about your actions from here on out. _Miss _Sage."

Adrian dropped me unceremoniously to the floor. My feet slid out underneath me as I fell to my knees and looked up to him. His amused smirk was gone, replaced with a harsh expression that frightened me-badly. I had no abilities or talents to win against him. My potions were back at my dorm, wherever that may be. He was right. If I wanted to live I needed to play by his rules. My head throbbed in sync with my heart, each battling the other over which was hurting worse. I hesitantly touched the back of my head. My hand came away dry; I felt relief that I hadn't done any real damage.

"Please...just send me back," I whispered.

Adrian bent down in front of me. "Not yet."

"What could you possibly need from me?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "From you, the human? Nothing. From Sydney Sage, the Alchemist? Well, that's a different story."

My body prickled with sweat as I kept my face very carefully composed. "You want my help as an Alchemist? You must be joking."

Adrian tilted my face to meet his eyes. "Do I look like I'm fucking joking?"

I swallowed. Then, "You curse a lot more. Why?"

His smile slowly returned. "Dare I repeat myself, Sage? I'm not the same boy you so quickly ran away from. It's been an interesting and profound six months. I've had a few more qualities to add onto the ever growing list of Adrian Ivashkov's bad habits."

I tugged my face out of his grip. "Why the Alchemists?"

"You have information we need," he rubbed a hand thoughtfully along his jaw. "You'll get it for us."

"I will?" I squeaked. "_Me?_"

"Yes," he said, absently. His face was tilted up towards the ceiling.

"What if I refuse?" I growled, my temper flaring. "Did you think of that?"

"Refuse?" Adrian laughed. "You won't be able to refuse after we tell yo-"

Adrian cut off his words. His expression changed instantly; his face took on a fierce, animalistic quality that had me once again pushing myself away from him. He caught me before I crawled too far and shoved me against the wall.

"How did they find us?" He yelled into my face. Adrian's arm pinned my body against the wall as he continued to scour the room for an invisible force.

"What are you talking about?" I yelled back, gripping his forearm.

"How. Did. She. Find. You." Adrian was practically spitting he was so mad. I looked around the master bedroom but saw no signs of anyone trying to force themselves inside.

"Who found me? Adrian, you're hurting me!"

I felt it then, the pull of my body and mind being put together again. Somewhere, Ms. Terwilliger had figured out how to join my pieces back with each other. I felt lighter than I had in days. The warmth enveloped me slowly, bringing me back to the world I belonged. Not to this nightmarish reality owned by a monster I barely recognized.

Adrian looked furiously around as my body started to disappear in front of him. I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. What I didn't expect or see coming was what he did next. Although I should have.

Adrian grabbed my face with both hands, looking straight into my eyes. My body stopped disintegrating as his fingers bit into my skull, _"__**I SUMMON THEE, SYDNEY SAGE. WHEREVER THEE REST, WHEREVER THEE LAY, THY SHALL COME.**__"_

The dream dissolved around me as everything went black once again.


End file.
